Interregnum (57 page)

Athas rumbled deep in his throat. “It’ll take at least a couple of days if not more to have everything loaded and made ready for transport. There’s a lot of logistical problems regardless of how quickly the troops can be made ready. You can’t forget the train of support staff that’s going to have to travel with us.” He sighed. “And then there’s the siege engines. The engineers will have to start making ready straight away.”

“So,” Darius said with some satisfaction, “if we say four days for a safe margin, we should be ready to move?”

There was a murmur of assent. Mercurias, deep in thought, was muttering to himself.

“Something up, captain?” the Emperor queried.

The grizzled medic looked up. “No. I’ve just been working it out. If we can put together some protective cavalry squads we can move the support and engineer units out as they become ready and muster them in the valley below. That way they won’t block up the narrow mountain road and when the full army’s ready to march we should be able to make it down to the plain in reasonable order.” He looked across at Athas and Tythias questioningly.

“I worry about the safety of the wagons and engines if they move before the rest of us,” Athas grumbled. “I don’t like exposing our supply column to danger. If they should be attacked and destroyed then our campaign’s over before it begins.”

Tythias shook his head. “Velutio’s army’s got to still be weeks away. So long as we send strong enough mixed cavalry and infantry units down with them we can feel fairly secure and the sooner we get the heavy carts down onto the plain, the faster we’ll move when we get started. I think it’s a damn good idea.”

Kiva nodded. “Agreed. But I want Sithis and Tythias to put together the best units they can for the duty and you can both head down there with the first group to organise things as they arrive below.”

Darius stretched and smiled. “Good. That just about clarifies everything. Anybody have anything to ask?” He waited a few seconds in silence and then clasped his hands. “Now let’s go over to the gate and get ready to meet these ambassadors for the enemy. Senior staff only. The rest of you’ve got things to do.”

He stepped down from the raised floor that housed the senior staff’s seats and made for the door, others trailing behind him. The Emperor glanced behind him as he left and noticed once again Kiva staring at the long-haired man.

“You!” the general barked, pointing at the enigmatic newcomer. “You’re part of Pelian’s party, but why d’you hide your face from us?”

The scarred old soldier lifted his head. There was a wide grin on the disfigured face. Kiva stared at him, his eyebrows meeting as he frowned, trying to work out why the face was disturbingly familiar…

“Balo?”

Kiva’s head whipped round as Mercurias stopped on his way from the room. The medic’s mouth had fallen open as he stared at the man. Kiva turned his head once more and stared at the old man.

“Balo?” he echoed. He looked around him and saw Athas and Brendan standing across the room with their arms folded and smiles splitting their faces. Marco reappeared in the doorway and leaned around the jamb. “What did you say?” he demanded, and then his eyes too fell on the scarred man.

“It is!” exclaimed Mercurias as he crossed the room to where the man sat. “It damn well is! May the Gods pluck the eyes from my head.” He edged forward for a moment, and then jogged across the room to where the scarred old man finally stood up.

The rest of the Wolves, radiating wonder and disbelief, converged on Balo as he pulled his regimental flask from his tunic and took a swig from it, grinning widely.

“At least Mercurias recognises me!” the old scarred man laughed. “But then he’s not used to seeing ex patients standing up.”

“Balo?” demanded Kiva again. “But you’re dead!”

“Not so, captain.” He grinned. “I mean, general of course. I was for a while though.”

Athas and Brendan now joined them. “Maybe now you three are here he’ll tell us about it. He refused all the way here.”

“To be honest, you’ll all have a better recollection of it than me,” Balo said.

“Shit,” exclaimed Marco breathlessly. “We last saw you at Pelian’s estate. Of course.”

Kiva nodded. “Yes, but you went off into a building in one of your rages and we saw your head split open.”

“I got shot. You know how I used to react to things like that. I chased the little bastard archer back into the building, but his mate hit me with something and I went out like a light.”

Mercurias nodded. “Not just something… the biggest club I ever saw.”

Brendan leaned forward. “When yer went down, yer ‘ead were open like a watermelon and I swear yer brains were spillin’ out.”

Another nod from the medic. “Hell, yes. Your brains were coming out of your head, man. I tried to get to you, but the building started to go.”

Balo grinned even wider. I didn’t wake up for a long time. You’d been gone from the Pelian estate over a month before I first opened my eyes, apparently. In fact, I don’t really remember anything for at least six months and you’re right about my head. Pelian’s doctor said I was actually stone dead for around a quarter of an hour and I lost about a tenth of my brain, though I personally haven’t noticed much difference.”

Marco grinned. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why didn’t you look for us when you recovered?” asked Kiva.

“It was well over a year before I was healthy enough to start being active again; almost a year and a half in fact. But even now I’m slow. I’m not the swordsman I was. Not one of the Wolves anymore, see?”

Kiva opened his mouth to argue, but Balo went on. “I used to get the rages when things like that happened to me; when I got wounded or suchlike, and I know I was a bit of a liability even then. That’s why I never had a full command in the old days, and I’m comfortable with that but since the wound the mood’s been unpredictable. I almost lost my job in Pelian’s army coz a guard cheated me at dice and I kicked him within inches of death. I’d be a real liability to you these days. I’m not here for my old commission, Kiva. I just wanted to see you all again and help the lad, coz he wants revenge for his father and can give him it.”

“But you’ve got to join us, Balo!” Marco gripped his arm. “Look at me! I lost a lung. I’m not always breathing too good; I certainly can’t take a frontline fight any more. I can’t ride very well and I walk slowly, but I still know enough to train and motivate and lead. The general’s still got enough confidence in me that I’ve got command of a unit of sappers.”

Kiva nodded, though Balo could read it in his features: Marco had been given a low-responsibility and low-danger command out of perhaps sympathy or respect. He smiled.

“I think not. I’ll stick around if that’s alright, but you really don’t want me in command of anyone; I guarantee it.”

A soldier appeared in the doorway and coughed politely.

“Yes?” Kiva said tersely.

“The Emperor requests your presence at the gate, sir.”

“We’re on our way,” the general replied.

As the rest of the Wolves made their way from the room, Kiva slowed and grasped Balo gently by the elbow. “I think we could do with a chat as we walk…”

Dropping slightly back and leaving the others to walk on ahead, Kiva eyed his companion. “You really sure you want to stay out of this? We really could do with your experience and you’re about my size. I can lend you tunics and armour for the moment if you want until we can get them fitted. You don’t have to command a unit if you don’t want to, but I could put you on the staff…”

“It’s not a matter of staying out of it,” Balo replied sadly. “It’s just… I know I’m not good enough for that anymore. Hell, I’ve been on mare’s mead for ten years now and some mornings I can’t even grip a sword hilt properly.” He glanced across at Kiva. “You must understand that; it’s got to have been twenty years on it for you.”

Kiva grunted but said nothing.

“You’re hitting it hard, aren’t you? I can tell just by looking at you…. Don’t forget I know how it feels. Is it the same old wound; the one with the liver? Getting worse, I presume? I remember the doctor said it would probably get worse as time went on.” He tapped Kiva on the arm as they walked. “Or is it this? These wounds aren’t very old.”

The general nodded. “Both, really. I’d be barely able to walk if it weren’t for the mare’s mead. To be honest Balo, I’m in more of a state than I can let on to the rest of them. I’ve got a lot of fairly fresh wounds that are only just healing and my muscles aren’t up to a fight. On top of that, the little shitty piece of metal in my side I think is actually working into my liver now.”

Balo pulled Kiva’s other arm across and examined the wrist. “You were crucified? Got to be, from the wounds; and I’ll bet I know who by.” The ex Wolf drew a deep breath. “I realise Athas and Mercurias will have told you this plenty before, but if you keep taking it like this, you’re going to kill yourself, you know? I worry about it myself every day and I’ll bet you take a lot more than I do.”

Kiva shrugged. “Probably. I don’t really care too much about me any more, but I’ve got to keep going until all this is over. Got to see it through. See, I brought the Empire down and I thought that was the end of it, but we found Quintus’ nephew in the early summer and… well, everything’s come tumbling back down on me. My lack of foresight got the young man killed and, though I’m going to hell anyway, I’ve got to put it right. It’s all my fault and I’ve got to put it right.”

Balo nodded. So the Imperial line’s properly gone then? I always assumed it had anyway. So where did this Darius lad turn up from?”

“He was brought up with Quintillian on Isera; taught everything by Sarios and his people. I gather he was the son of the training officer from Munda. It took me a while to realise a new Emperor didn’t have to be the same family as the old one. Sarios hammered it into me in the end.” As they reached the door leading out to the wide square, he caught sight of Darius handing out instructions to the guard officers. “He’ll make a good Emperor though; of that I’m damned sure.”

“I suppose,” said Balo as they strode out into the sun, “my next question is: how the hell do you plan to actually beat Velutio?”

Kiva shrugged. “Everyone here thinks I’ll come up with some miraculous genius plan to turn everything around and, well, I’ve had ideas; a few plans in their earliest stages, but nothing I’d pin the hopes of an Empire on. They all feel wrong. There’s something that I’ve missed this far though; something that escapes me; something almost in reach, but I can’t quite grasp it.”

He grinned at Balo. “But I’ll bet you’re part of it. You can’t go, even if you won’t join us. I have a feeling I’ve a part for you to play yet.”

Balo nodded. “If you say so, General. You know I won’t back out and leave you all in the shit. I just don’t want to be in a position of command.”

The two of them wandered out, catching up with the others at the gatehouse. Darius was standing around with the other officers and the gates stood wide open. The Emperor smiled as Kiva approached. “Sorry to cut your reunion short, general, but Velutio’s group’s almost here and I thought we’d best all be present, eh?”

Caerdin nodded soberly. “Indeed. They’ll no doubt want to speak to you, but I would suggest that I act as your intermediary to start with. To give them immediate access to the Emperor will look idiotic, and I’m still not sure how far we can trust them, even under a flag of truce.”

Darius nodded. “Agreed. I’ll stay at the back with my guards and be very imperial until you need me.” He smiled. “Or until I need to say anything of course.”

They watched for a short while as nine men on horseback toiled slowly and openly up the slope toward the gate, the dust from their hooves creating thin clouds that drifted across the valley as they travelled. Finally they approached the gate. The lead soldier made a quick study of the defences, noting with interest and approval the narrow approach to Hadrus and its strong walls. Guards manned several huge bolt-throwers on the top of the gate, which were aimed directly at the approaching riders, though the gates themselves remained open and surprisingly welcoming.

Kiva took a couple of steps forward, Athas and Tythias at his side.

“State your business” he called.

A smaller man rode out around the side of the lead soldier and dropped the travel-worn and dusty cloak from his head and the scarf from his face. He was clearly Pelasian; one of Ashar’s. “General Caerdin… I believe you will know at least some of these men. Sergeant Cialo if no others?”

Kiva nodded. “Cialo. I’m surprised Velutio would send you rather than one of his politicians or spies.”

Cialo saluted; a traditional Imperial salute. Sliding from his saddle he motioned his men to follow suit. The Pelasian remained seated as he looked across the others at the general. “If you will excuse me general, my Prince must know of this?”

Without waiting for Kiva’s absent wave of a hand and nod of assent, the man wheeled his horse and began to ride as fast as safety would allow down the narrow path. Cialo, with his seven other men at heel stepped slowly forward, their hands staying well clear of the sword hilts at their waists. The sergeant smiled at them. “General Caerdin, it’s a pleasure. I can assure you that it was Commander Sabian that chose who delivered the message, not his lordship.”

Kiva nodded. “I realise that you’re here under a flag of truce and have no real reason to trust me, but the Emperor is here and I must ask you to surrender your weapons for the time being.” He clicked his fingers and a number of the guard stepped forward to receive the items.